


The Wall One

by LulaIsAKitten



Series: Freudian Slips [4]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Attraction, F/M, Surveillance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24232576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: I’d been casting around for a while for a new series, and here we have Freudian Slips. The premise is, one or other of Strike and Robin says or does something to give away their feelings/closeness, and either they or the other one doesn’t notice it. Or maybe neither of them notices it and a friend or colleague does. As always, requests gratefully received in the comments or over on Tumblr @lulacat3.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Freudian Slips [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645858
Comments: 16
Kudos: 55





	The Wall One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mcclinds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcclinds/gifts).



> For LindyRen, for the prompt “..maybe his hand on her back and not realizing he’s rubbing his thumb back and forth but she very much notices.“

“It’s one of these gardens.” Strike stretched himself to his full height, but he couldn’t quite see over the wall. He glanced back down the alley, trying to judge how far they’d come. The house they needed was fifth from the end. Was this too far, not far enough?

Robin, following him, was counting under her breath.

“I reckon this is it,” she said, coming to a halt beside him. “Same number of steps as along the street.”

Her shot her an admiring glance. “Good thinking.”

Hiding a small, pleased smile, Robin stepped back to scrutinise the wall. “We want to be sure, before we go breaking in.”

Strike was already examining the wooden door a little further along, jiggling it to test the give. “Reckon it must be padlocked the other side.”

“We need to see,” Robin said determinedly. “We’re pretty sure they’re all out, right?”

“Yeah, the wife said she and the kids are well clear, and she’s pretty sure her husband won’t be back till later.”

Robin shot him a grin. “People who conduct affairs in their own homes are most inconvenient. Much harder to catch in the act.”

Strike nodded ruefully. “I did try to suggest that she just leave a phone lying around or bug the place, but she wants official proof with our stamp on it. She’s going to have a hell of a court battle to get her share, he’s loaded and pretty stingy, by all accounts.”

“Well, then,” Robin said. “Boost me up.”

“What?”

“Give me a boost. We need to know we have the right house, and work out how to get in, or at least set up a camera on this wall pointing the right way.”

Strike nodded. He set his left shoulder and hip to the wall, his knee bent, his less strong leg braced slightly to the side for balance. Robin stepped up to him, toed off her flat shoes and set her foot on his thigh. She grabbed the top of the wall and pulled herself up, pushed by Strike’s hands at her waist.

His hands were huge and strong; she always felt so safe when they did this. She was hardly a stick insect, but nevertheless his fingers splayed across her hips and his thumbs almost met in the small of her back. She slid her other foot next to the first one on this thigh, her toes instinctively curling into him, and stretched to see.

It was the right house. The conservatory and patio were just as the photos their client had sent them. Robin leaned over, trying to see the gate which was down to her left now.

“Yeah, there’s a padlock,” she called softly down to her partner. “We’ll have to maybe ask her to leave that open.”

Strike grunted.

“Am I heavy?”

“Not at all.”

Robin leaned the other way a little. “I think I can see enough,” she went on. “We can see the whole conservatory and right through into the lounge. Right here would be a good place for a camera. Can’t see into the bedroom, though.”

Strike nodded, his head almost against her bottom. “We’ll have to see what we can get from here and then decide.”

Robin stiffened. “Ooh, hang on, I think he’s come home.” She ducked a little, fishing in her coat pocket for her mobile phone.

Strike’s hands tightened a little at her waist as she half crouched, hiding behind the wall, her phone propped up ready to take pictures. They waited.

“I can’t see if he’s alone,” Robin hissed.

They waited some more, phone poised, camera switched on.

Suddenly Robin was very aware of her proximity to her partner. They’d only ever done this for seconds at a time, a quick boost and a look and then down again. His hands were warm at her waist, heat radiating through her blouse, sending goosebumps across her skin. And she was sure he hadn’t realised that his right thumb was idly rubbing against her lower back, tracing gentle circles. Warmth coiled through her and a blush rose up her neck and across her face. His touch was delicious, far more sensual than she had any right to acknowledge.

Her breathing unsteady, she watched the house through the screen of her phone, desperately trying to ignore the movement of that thumb, feather-light against her skin though the sheer cotton of her blouse, sending waves of heat through her that were pooling, to her horror, in her groin.

Their mark slumped down onto the sofa and pointed the remote at the television. He was alone.

“Nope, he’s not got her with him today.” Her voice was slightly hoarse. Robin cleared her throat. “We’ll have to come back.”

She stepped down, and Strike steadied her until she had found her balance and slipped her shoes back on, stepped away from him.

“Shame,” he replied, grinning. “I thought for a moment there we were going to get our evidence on the first recce!”

Robin laughed lightly, smoothing her clothing down, brushing off her trousers, ignoring the tendrils of warmth in her belly and hoping her cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt. “Yeah, that would have been one of our fastest cases ever!”

Strike looked around. “Okay, so this is where we need to be next time,” he said. “Under the oak.”

Robin nodded. “We can come back with a spy camera.”

“Right,” he said cheerfully. “I think we deserve a coffee after that. There was a cafe by the station selling bacon sandwiches. Fancy it?”

Robin smiled. “Why not?”

They set off back towards the high street.


End file.
